


One Last Thought

by DiamondPanda48



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Burr/Hamilton duel aftermath, I'm Sorry, Multi, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 01:58:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18356270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondPanda48/pseuds/DiamondPanda48
Summary: The aftermath of the Burr/Hamilton duel in all its sadness and horror. No extremely graphic descriptions.





	One Last Thought

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to be as historically accurate here as possible. Props to Ron Chernow's biography, which really helped with this. Many of these facts are true, but I fictionalized the account. Constructive criticism in the comments is greatly appreciated!

     Burr's gun was pointed at him. His first friend here in America, the nation they built together. They had their laughs and sobs and victories together. They had been enemies and friends. But now it was over. No chance to redeem himself. Because at that moment, he knew that it was the end. The ticking clock of mortality had never been so loud in his ears that had heard too much. 

     He aimed his gun up. Better to be known as not shooting Burr instead of possibly having them both die and their legacies along with it. He had hoped for just one more day. He had a lunch date planned with a client that afternoon. The sun was in his eyes. He watched his city, New York City, become embraced by the morning light as it kissed the sky. Eliza was there. His seven remaining children were there. What had he gotten himself into?

     He should've learned from his first near-duel experience. It should've been him who dueled Lee. He still regretted that he put Laurens up to the potentially deadly request. He should've learned from all of his near-duel experiences.The thought of that brought his falling out with Monroe into his mind. They had gone back and forth so childishly, himself blaming Monroe for leaking the details of the affair to the press. IT was Burr who stopped that. He had always hated dueling and violence. But those days were no more.

     He should've learned from Philip.

     He felt tears welling up to his eyes. The gun that he was holding was Philip's when he dueled less than three years ago. He examined it. Was this what Philip had felt? His first son, who he refused to see as an adult? He was even standing in the same place where Philip had. He imagined his son there,holding his pistol and aiming towards the sky, standing there for several minutes until Eacker finally shot. He must've been so terrified, so angry, and so scared. Just for his father, who he loved despite shaming the family name with both his open letter to John Adams and  _Observations on Certain Documents Contained in No. v & VI of "The History of the United States for the Year 1796,"  in Which the Charge of Speculation Against Alexander Hamilton, Late Secretary of the Treasury, is Fully Refuted. Written by himself._ Philip died for him. He let his son die to protect his honor. He would never forgive himself for that.

     That thought brought up Eliza. His Angel who he didn't deserve one bit. She was just as beautiful ever since they had met in Morristown so many years ago. She raised their children to inherit her charming qualities. He regretted not being there for them. And then the thought of his pamphlet... he remembered her sobs when he came home that night. She had left the next day to her parents' home in Albany whilst 9 months pregnant with William. He had found that she had left his letters untouched, however.He had to take care of the children while she was gone. Her cold fury had scarred him. The tear tracks still quite visible and her mouth set in a firm line. And it was all his fault. She had given birth to William in Albany. He had traveled up there and sent her a letter for her. HE had hoped to see her, but Angelica had come with her. Angelica made sure that Alexander would not be able to see Eliza. Angelica had also written Eliza a note that he had found a few years later in their bedroom. The thing there that had caught his eye was how she described him as "too near the sun." It was true. He had gone too far. The fact that Eliza might've left him still haunted him up to the secluded ledge overlooking the beautiful East River in Weehawken. He imagined his Eliza being unable to tolerate him anymore and divorcing him. Then she would have to raise their children alone with no money and only support from her family. And he would have to leave his children behind. That would break him. He had never been a domestically-oriented parent, but losing his children would be a blow that he would never recover from. They were the reason why he was still careful about his actions.

     He made a mental roll call of his remaining children. Angelica, just as beautiful as her namesake aunt, was shattered. She still thought that Philip was standing next to her, still speaking to her. As little as it seemed plausible, Alexander still found it impossible to push the glimmer of impossible hope that Philip was still with them. Alexander Jr. He was his eldest son now. He had explained to the younger ones why Philip wasn't coming home anymore, despite Angelica's constant claims that he was there. He had comforted his mother when he had published the pamphlet despite not knowing exactly what was going on. James Alexander. That loud little boy. Energetic and lively. John Church. Always concerned about the family's stance in the public eye, almost as concerned as Philip had been. John had always been talking about publishing a biography about his father when he was an adult. William. Louder than James had been. He was the most outgoing one of them. The way he dared to climb trees when none of his siblings would. Eliza Jr. Eliza had frequently compared her wit and personality to himself. He could see it as well. She was by far one of the smartest in the Hamilton home, despite her being less than 5. Philip II. Nothing could replace the first Philip, but it helped to soothe the pain of their loss. He was only two. He would never remember his father if he died. He would only have an account of himself through his older siblings.

     Strangely enough, his thoughts lead him to Angelica Church. He knew that her wits matched his. He even could admit that she was smarter than he was. He had met her, her husband, Jonathan Barker Church, and her two children, Philip and Kitty and known that she was more intelligent than her husband, a weapons smuggler for the revolutionary cause. Angelica and himself had exchanged letters that were witty and flirtatious. He imagined Eliza's reaction if she had found out about the ordeal. She had forgiven him for too much already, it seemed.

     And then poor Peggy. He had been at her side when she died. Stephen had been beside himself and her son as well. Her other two children had died. She was a charming woman. She was sarcastic and a bit vain, but overall, she was a charming friend. He had written to her to get her on his side when he began courting Eliza. They had held a trusting,honest friendship.

     Then Maria. He wondered how she had been faring after the pamphlet. It wasn't her fault, he had realized. Her daughter would've been killed by her husband. She gave up her public stance for the life of her daughter. He wished he could've done something so admirable. Then maybe he would begin to deserve his Eliza a bit more.

     He wondered who he would see on the other side. His mother,of course. Then Laurens. His closest friend. He loved him like a brother. Just remembering his death brought him shivers. Washington, perhaps. Peggy, of course. Philip. Martha Washington. He remembered the wine cooler they had given Eliza as consolation for the pamphlet. He felt guilty whenever he saw it. Maybe he could apologize to all of them for all of his flaws, everything he did wrong.

    Before he could think any more, pain like he had never felt before jolted from his ride side.

    He fell to his knees, the world spinning and getting darker. Dr. Hosack and Nathaniel Pendleton came racing to his side,but that hardly mattered anymore. HE did let a few words slip from his lips, "This is a mortal wound, doctor." He knew that this was the end. He had known what a fatal wound looked like from his time in the Continental Army. Those days seemed like rays of sunshine compared to his political life.

     What caught his darkening vision was the sight of Burr rushing towards him, evidently wanting to speak to him. He was ushered away by his own second, William P. Van Ness. In that moment of pain, when he could still think clearly, he forgave Burr. Burr had called the duel not to kill him, but to defend his honor. Alexander had ridiculed Burr countless times. It was only natural for Burr to become angered. He had endorsed Jefferson back in 1800 and endorsed Lewis earlier in the year. He had been a terrible man in the letters he had sent him. He wouldn't forgive himself for his mistake to anger Burr.

      His vision disappeared. He couldn't feel or hear anything either.

     He had woken up. He was back on the boat. Dr. Hosack was examining his wound. He could no longer feel anything from his waist down. "Take care of that pistol; it is undischarged, and still cocked; it may go off and do harm. Pendleton knows" he said weakly to the doctor. "that I did not intend to fire at him." "Yes," said Pendleton, understanding his wish, "I have already made Dr. Hosack acquainted with your determination as to that." Alexander closed his eyes and relaxed himself. He only responded to the doctor's questions and asked him a few times about how he had found his pulse. He told the doctor about how his bottom half had lost feeling. Dr. Hosack nodded grimly.

     Poor Eliza. What would she do without him? He kept thinking. He imagined her raising the rest of their children alone. He imagined her wailing in despair at his death and Angelica crying just as much. He imagined her standing in front a building in New York City that he didn't recognize. There were children running around in its garden. Eliza was much older in that image, but still very much the Angel that he knew.

     It seemed like eternities until he was in his friend William Bayard Jr.'s home. He unwound in his deathbed. Now he had to wait and pray that the Lord would give him enough time to be able to see Eliza, his children, Angelica, and everyone else who he wanted to be with.

     Angelica, her children, and her husband came first. Angelica was sobbing while her children were lead out of the room and being comforted by her husband. Alexander looked at Angelica straight on, with their eyes locking.

     "Alexander, how could you do this to Eliza?" she cried.

     He could barely speak anymore, but manage to weakly say, "I had no choice. I needed to defend my ho--"

     Angelica cut him off. "Honor!" she spat. "You'd rather die than have your pride taken away."

     She was right. Even after all this time, he would rather die than have his honor taken away. Like many other things, that was a lesson that he never took the time to learn.

     He said nothing. He could barely stay awake.

     Angelica went back to sobbing.

     He waited again. He wouldn't be able to bear it if he died without saying his last words to her.

     The doctor would frequently check up on him. But he was still waiting.

     He heard hurried footsteps downstairs. His heartbeat quickened. Was Eliza finally here?

     Eliza came in, initially looking concerned but nothing out of the ordinary before looking at the dark red blood stain in the blanket despite the bandages. Her face turned to horror. Just like it had when she saw Philip on his deathbed.

     Angelica hurried over to her, handing her a dry handkerchief. She lead his darling over to his bedside. Angelica wrapped her arms around Eliza and supporting her, as Eliza was beginning to go weak the the knees.

     His Angel kneeled beside the bed with her hand going underneath the sheets and taking his hand. Tears were running down her beautiful face, her expression mixed with horror, fear, and love.

     "Alexander," she choked out between her rapid sobs.

     "Eliza" he said, hardly louder than a needle dropping onto a carpet.

     She took a bit between her tears and said, "They told me that you had a case of spasms and to bring the children. Why did you do this? Will the Lord take you away from me?" she asked desperately.

     He could barely speak anymore. He managed to only utter, "Remember, my dear Eliza, you are a Christian." He knew that it was the only thing he could say to bring her solace.

     Eliza took a shaky breath and managed a tearful smile. Her smile quickly fell however, when she said, "I thought that you would've learned after Philip," she said simply.

     He could no longer speak. Eliza seemed to notice after a bout of silence from him. She gestured in a way that he recognized well. She wanted to embrace him, to hang onto him, as if that would keep him alive. He nodded stiffly.

     She awkwardly embraced him and, in the moment, all was well again. They could just be back in Morristown as a young couple taking a good-natured sleigh ride again. But then the doctor came back and filled Eliza in on the information about his condition. She nodded until she heard that her husband was not likely to survive. She let out a bloodcurdling scream that was worse than the one she had let out when Philip had stopped breathing. Alexander couldn't stand to see his Betsy in such pain. It was his fault that she was in this pain in the first place.

     Eliza spoke to Angelica. They shared a small exchange of words before Eliza stood and left the room.

     Alexander panicked. Where was she going? Did she have enough of him? Did she not want to see him anymore? Even in the amount of pain he was in, his mind could not seem to stop thinking at its lightning pace. He wanted to speak, to communicate, to ask somebody-- anybody where Eliza was.

      After a few moments, Eliza came back in, followed by their children.

      Angelica was standing to the side, oblivious of what was going on. Alexander Jr. was holding Philip II and comforting William. James and John were standing together, watching their father in horror. Little Eliza was being held by Angelica.

      Seeing his children made his guilt of his pending death exponentially increase. Especially for Philip II and Eliza Jr., who would both have little to no remembrance of their father. He would never get to see them grow up.

      He wanted to get out of the bed, to pull all of them together and tell them that it was going to be okay. But he couldn't even speak. So he just looked at them. And then he felt his energy supply end. He closed his eyes once more. He heard someone leading his children out.

      Throughout the day, more and more people showed up to see him. He had lost count of how many had come. But he was grateful for all of them.

      He did have to admit, however, that he was expecting Burr to come and apologize. But he never did.

      Hours later, he lost consciousness.

      Darkness.

      The last thing he remembered was Eliza holding his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. The conversation with Angelica and Eliza had been made up. The thing on the boat was from Dr. Hosack's account of the aftermath of the duel. Like I said, I can't know a lot of what happened, but I did my best guess.
> 
> Title credit to the deleted Hamilton song in the Off-Broadway production of Hamilton: Ten Things, One Thing
> 
> This is my first fanfic. Don't forget to leave kudos!


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